


Little Talks

by Talonted



Series: Matters of the Heart [1]
Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: Angst, Comedy, F/F, I haven't written a fanfic in 5 years please forgive me, Post-Aball, Romance, Tales of Femslash Week 2019, talesfemslashweek2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 12:57:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20408122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talonted/pseuds/Talonted
Summary: Eleanor always wanted to meet the kind ofmanperson Velvet could fall in love with.(Day 1: First Love.)





	Little Talks

**Author's Note:**

> I’m a few years late (I'm also a day late for TOFS Week, oops) - I just finished ToB about two months ago and read through a bunch of Veleanor fanfics. (You’ve probably seen me drop kudos here and there.) Speaking of which!
> 
> This entire collection is Veleanor. It's only Veleanor. :D
> 
> Berseria is the sole Tales game I've played (and is the only one that appealed to me). If you wanted something else from the Tales series, you'll have to look elsewhere, haha.
> 
> Thanks for dragging me back into writing fanfiction, Berseria. And thank you, reader, for indulging in... whatever this is. Let me know what you think!

As they board the _Van Eltia_, Velvet whips around to stare down at the ragtag group she reluctantly calls her team. “Aball may have _distracted_ me, but don’t think I couldn’t hear anything you _idiots_ were saying.”

“What? Nooo, we weren’t talkin’ about you!” Rokurou replies, a shit-eating smirk on his face as he rests his arms behind his head. Eleanor nearly bumps into his back from his sudden halt, though Magilou full-on slams into Eleanor. But neither of them say a word (well, Magilou groans and gripes, but Eleanor ignores it) as they reorient themselves on the dock, awaiting Velvet’s reaction to the obnoxious swordsman.

Her amber eyes narrow, but she doesn’t press the issue. Instead, she stomps off below deck, presumably to her own quarters.

As her raven-black hair flies in the wind, Eleanor watches, of course. For an appropriate amount of time… of course.

“Aw, Velvet,” Laphicet says, and Eleanor can practically hear the pout. She’s sure the boy wants to dash off to her room and check if she’s doing okay. Though, Eleanor knows that’s a bad idea; it’d be best to give her some time to decompress.

“So which conversation do you think she’s talking about?” Rokurou asks slyly once he figures she’s out of earshot. Laphicet sighs.

“I would presume she noticed our confusion about how… happy she acted,” Eleanor replies, finally tearing her eyes away from where the woman disappeared to.

Velvet could be upset about _anything_, even a topic unrelated to Aball if she’s being honest. Besides, she has every right to be mad at them for prodding into her past life.

“I believe that’s what surprised _me_ the most about Aball,” she continues. “Perhaps we were stepping on old wounds that Lord Artorius first opened.” Eleanor winces a little but doesn’t think anyone notices; why should she respectfully call him _Lord_ anymore?

“You’re sure? I think -” Magilou extends the syllable for a few seconds as she skips up the ship’s ramp. She waits for the rest of the team to board before continuing with a flourish. “I think she’s embarrassed that we were talking about her romantic life! Imagine that, Velvet Crowe, the Lord of Calamity, the night’s brooding guardian, the therion who dares defy fate - she’s really just a shy unbloomed _flower_ at the end of the day, thirsting for a taste of the sun.”

Eizen snorts, shaking his head. “Are you daft? Velvet isn’t the type to let something like _romance_ weigh her down.” He flips the coin mindlessly in the air and catches it without checking. “My bets are on her tragic past. And us knowing it. She doesn’t seem too keen on how _sympathetic_ we’ve been the past few days.”

“Yeah, I’m with Eizen on that one,” Rokurou interjects with a grin. “Maybe we just gotta give her _more_ shit for how broody she is!”

“You missed my point,” Eizen sighs.

“But did you see how doting she was to her little brother? And the other villagers?” Laphicet pipes up. Four pair of eyes glance down to give him their full attention, while Phi can’t decide where to look. “Umm… I think embarrassed isn’t the right word. But… she definitely looked like she missed that feeling!”

“What feeling?” Rokurou prompts, stroking his chin as he grins down at the young malak.

“Uh…” Phi presses a hand to his mouth, eyebrows scrunching together. “I’m not sure, really.”

“I think you mean love,” Eleanor murmurs, more to herself than anything else.

“_What was that_?” Magilou hums, leaning into Eleanor’s personal space. The exorcist gasps, takes a step back, and then grumbles under her breath once recovered. “I couldn’t quite hear you, my little exorcist, but if you said what I _think_ you said, then we’re on the same page too! How about it? Wanna bet with me against the boys? I’ll even give you ten percexnt of the profits!” Magilou leans right back in again, smirking from ear to ear.

“I didn’t -” She gently pushes Magilou away and crosses her arms over her chest. “I didn’t say anything!”

“Well, you _did _say you wanted to see what kinda guy Velvet could fall for, didn’t you?” Magilou reminds, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “Maybe that’s why you were thinking about _lo-o-o-ove_.”

“What?” Eleanor waves her arms around. “No! How could you have - I never said _that_!”

“Nah, you definitely said it,” Rokurou hums. “Pretty _loudly_ too. I could hear ya from across the village!”

“Huh?! No! That was _Bienfu’s_ fault!”

Laphicet laughs gently, tugging on Eleanor’s sleeve. “It’s not good to lie, Eleanor!”

“Even you?!”

“Begs the question _why_,” Eizens notes, smirking as he folds his arms over his chest. “Why, exactly, would you want to learn what type of person Velvet is interested in? For your _own_sake?”

Eleanor splutters on her words, trying to come up with a coherent response. Her mind blanks out, and she can feel the blood rush to her cheeks instead of her brain. “No,” is all she can mutter weakly. The four burst into raucous laughter at Eleanor’s defeat.

Face burning, she glances at the jubilant expressions of her friends as they smile and laugh at - _with_, Eleanor likes to think - her. She shakes her head and starts chuckling a little too. When, pray tell, did she start considering them her _friends_?

With a deep breath, Eleanor peeks into the room as quietly as she can, her fingers hovering over the opened door.

Velvet’s sitting on the nicely-fixed bed, staring at her unsheathed arm-sword. Eleanor has always found her beautiful, even back when they were enemies. Anyone with so much as a passing interest in women couldn’t deny how attractive the raven-haired daemon is (and Eleanor definitely feels much more than a_ passing interest_ toward her). Right now, she’s got an unusually gentle look on her face, and Eleanor feels the need to back out, like she’s intruding on a private moment.

“Velvet? Dinner’s ready,” Eleanor says softly, rapping her knuckles against the solid wood.

Amber eyes narrow, and that rare expression disappears. “...What were you idiots laughing about?”

“Huh?” Eleanor feels her throat tighten, imagining Velvet lash out and slam her against the wall with that therion arm of hers. That was more than an hour ago. How could she have even -

“You’re all so _loud_.”

“Oh.” Her muscles relax, and she finds her voice again. _That’s good,_ Eleanor thinks. _A comment like that means she’s not angry._ “Yes... sorry.”

“So?” The sword slides back into her bracer with a sleek _click_.

“We…” Eleanor bites her lip, racking her brain for a satisfactory answer without giving herself away. “It wasn’t important, Velvet. We were talking about the questions we had while we were in Aball.”

“Maybe I can answer some of them.”

“_Ah_…” _What’s her plan_? she wonders. _Velvet isn’t usually the type to open up._

“Though, I’m curious what caused the _laughter_. Did _you_ ask an embarrassing question?”

“No! But…” Eleanor huffs. “_Someone_ did wonder what kind of person you could fall in love with.”

“...Hm. That’s a little different than what I expected. But I can’t say I’m surprised.” She stares at her hands, bandaged one folded over the other. “That one _was_ you, wasn’t it?”

“I - what? I just said I _didn’t_!” she yells louder than she means to. “Haha, what makes you think that?! I’d never be interested in such a silly -”

“You’re a bad liar, Eleanor Hume,” Velvet says, shaking her head.

“Okay, okay, _yes_. I asked that,” Eleanor grumbles, leaning against the door frame. “Out of curiosity! No weird reasons!”

Velvet tries to laugh, but Eleanor notices it doesn’t quite come out like it usually does. Perhaps this is a sore spot, and she should leave before it gets worse.

“...You saw her.”

But curiosity gets the better of her.

“_Her_?”

“During the illusion. Her name was Niko.”

“Right... So you and her -”

“No. She wasn’t interested in me like that.”

“But you two seemed so…”

“That was all in my head, remember?” Velvet murmurs, clenching her fists tightly. “The real Niko wasn’t so… _affectionate_ with me. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Oh…”

“Doesn’t matter either way. I _murdered_ her.” The redhead watches as the steely woman’s shoulders tense, voice cracking. Eleanor feels her heart ache out for the therion, every last little ounce of pain and hurt piercing into the exorcist’s chest. “I murdered her. Along with the rest of my friends and neighbors.” She sighs, then forces a laugh. “So... the Lord of Calamity has no time for something as pointless as love.”

“I’m sorry.” Eleanor wants to look away. Traitor or not, an exorcist like her hurt and destroyed the lives of countless innocent civilians under the guise of saving the world. Never mind protecting children from the horrors she and her own village faced. She can’t even imagine how many people - _families_ \- died to the Abbey’s “reason.”

“Why are you sorry?” she grumbles. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m just…” Eleanor closes her eyes for a moment. She’d wronged many. Tried to kill any daemon she faced. Studied to be a noble exorcist for years, driven by reason to save most of humanity while those like Velvet Crowe suffered. When she opens them again, Velvet still hasn’t moved. “...sorry. We shouldn’t have been talking about something so personal to you.” _Nor should I have been so inconsiderate of your feelings_, she adds to herself.

Velvet lets out a long breath, then shakes her head. “...Of course you would all be curious. I never told anyone about Aball.”

“Right…”

How could they laugh so hard about Velvet? Maybe that’s the only way each of them knew how to cope with loss. A vengeful therion, a hot-headed yaksha, a malak with newly-found freedom, another who sails the wide and free seas, an enigmatic witch, and a traitorous exorcist. _That makes sense,_ she concludes. None of them are particularly skilled at speaking through their vulnerable feelings, so they joke about it instead.

“Um, Velvet,” she murmurs after a moment. “Is it okay if I -”

“Yeah.”

Eleanor’s fairly certain she was simply going to say “come in”, but Velvet’s hand pats the space next to her on the bed. The gesture feels like more of a command than a suggestion. She glances at Velvet, but she still refuses to look Eleanor’s way.

The exorcist shuffles into the room awkwardly and sits on Velvet’s left. The therion doesn’t acknowledge her, but Eleanor finds that to be just fine; she’s not sure if she could handle staring into those powerful amber eyes just yet. Or at all, really. She’s always been equal parts attracted to and intimidated by Velvet’s strength, passion, and headstrong attitude. Perhaps some of that stemmed from jealousy. Watching a woman her age fight tooth and nail to take back the freedom that the Abbey stole from her… At times, it can feel a little humiliating.

“I…” Eleanor stares at her gloved hands, watching the fabric stretch and relax as she opens and closes them into fists. For so long, she’d been so confident that the Abbey was right and kept racing forward with something akin to reckless abandon. But now, she’s not sure what comes next.

Traveling with a ridiculous band of misfits leads her down an untrodden path. Yet she’s never felt more _alive_. Never felt so _comforted_ by the mystery and the failures. Because she knows that whatever _this_ is… is _right_. Velvet offered her a chance to see the truth, and Eleanor hesitantly accepted.

“I don’t think you’re incapable of love,” Eleanor finally says. “Actually, I think you’re full of a lot more love than you give yourself credit for.”

“What?” Velvet straightens up, her head whipping over to face the redhead. Her words come out more as a growl than a coherent sentence. “What kind of trick are you trying to pull?”

“No!” she exclaims, reflexively flinching at the therion’s furrowed brows and accusatory tone. “No,” she says again, calmer this time. “There’s no trick here. I really _do_ think you should have more than all that self-deprecating nonsense you say.”

“What… what do you mean?” Her eyes soften, and Eleanor senses Velvet is looking right through her.

Eleanor’s gentle fingers curl around Velvet’s bandaged ones, cautiously at first. When Velvet doesn’t tug away, Eleanor tightens her grip. Perhaps what she feels is simpler than she thinks.

“I’ve seen you hurt and lose and _bleed_.” The words pull Velvet out of her reverie, and she refocuses on Eleanor’s face, that typical aloof expression taking over. “Oh _Empyreans_, I can’t believe how many times I’ve seen you bleed. You don’t even bat an _eyelash_ at what the world throws at you. It’s like you absorb the pain just as easily as you… you know, eat daemons.” Velvet chuckles, but Eleanor presses on. “But I know that you’re still human, Velvet. You rage and cry and _love _like the rest of us _idiots_ do.”

The raven-haired woman bites her lip, her face falling sullen again. “And what’s that got to do with anything?”

“Think about it this way,” she says, laughing harder than she means to. The tears dare to fall, but she’s not in the mood to start bawling like a child right now. “When I met you, you were some crazy daemon hellbent on revenge.”

Velvet scoffs. “Yeah. Not much different than now.”

“Well, no.” Eleanor shakes her head, somehow laughing again despite Velvet’s steely expression. “Remember, we didn’t get along at _all_! But it’s a part of _human_ nature to grow. People change, Velvet. I think we did too.”

Another scoff. “Yeah.” Velvet stares down at their hands for a moment, and Eleanor’s tempted to wrench hers out of there. But no, she’s gone too far to back out of the conversation now. “I guess we did.”

“Sorry, that didn’t make much sense did it?”

“You’re fine,” Velvet responds, shrugging.

“Ahhh…” Eleanor groans, heart pounding from the ridiculous anxiety bubbling in her chest. “All that sounded like the right thing to say, but now I’m not so sure. I think...” She takes a deep breath and looks straight at Velvet, who locks onto her gaze. “I’m arguing that the Lord of Calamity shouldn’t be so scared of love. You deserve someone to lean on, too. Isn’t that what love is?”

The corners of her mouth lift, barely enough for Eleanor to count it as a smile. Velvet’s hand shifts, lacing their fingers together and making Eleanor’s heart skip a beat. “You talk too much.”

“Velvet!” she shouts, trying to put on her most annoyed look, though her face flushes from the therion’s gentle touch. “I’m here baring my _heart_ to you, and _that’s_ all you have to say? Now that’s just -”

Eleanor’s swiftly silenced as Velvet leans in, gripping the back of the redhead’s neck with her right hand. Her soft pink lips are captured and commanded by Velvet’s rough pressure, and Eleanor, eyes closed, finds herself weaving her fingers into Velvet’s tangled hair, clutching tight as she returns the kiss. She sees stars exploding as her head spins, and she wouldn’t care if the world ended as soon as they parted lips. Throw Artorius and Innominat and the rest of the Abbey’s lapdogs at her, right this instance - she could take ‘em all on by herself.

Somewhere along this insane journey, her heart was stolen by a sweet, dangerous daemon who, with a single glance, could make her heart erupt into a flurry of excitement and passion. She pulls hard on Velvet’s messy mane to drag her close, and Velvet is all too happy to deepen the kiss. Eleanor feels all of her unspoken emotions - the rage behind every bite of the redhead’s lip, the sadness whenever Eleanor pauses for a breath, the desire overflowing as Velvet’s fingers explore Eleanor’s body to find all her weak spots.

That stunning sensation of love is _new_.

And the moment’s over a little too soon.

“- _rude_,” Eleanor says weakly, taking in another sharp breath as their lips part. She struggles to calm herself down, but the therion seems just fine.

“Sorry,” Velvet breathes, eyes opening.

The world stills back to a normal pace, and Eleanor is dimly aware of the _Van Eltia_’s gentle rocking against the waves.

Velvet’s forehead is so warm against hers, and she doesn’t want to stop staring into those fiery amber eyes. Velvet says so much with that intense, unwavering look that Eleanor’s face burns, redder than blood, redder than her hair, redder than Velvet’s skimpy little blouse. Her fingers tighten around Velvet’s, almost crushingly so, as though she’s trying to break through her embarrassment by inflicting pain on someone else. The raven-haired woman chuckles, starting to lean back, but Eleanor’s not satisfied.

And she goes in for another kiss. Her lips don’t crush against Velvet’s like their lives are at stake or that there’s some crazy asshole to be defeated, but instead, she’s gentle, as though she’s kissing a long-time lover good morning. She melts as Velvet returns the kiss, her cold hand cupping the exorcist’s all-too-hot cheek. The therion’s fingers move upward, tangling themselves in Eleanor’s ponytail.

Finally, she breaks away, giggling like an innocent cadet falling in love for the first time. Which, she likes to think, is quite accurate to the current situation.

“Mm, nice,” Velvet murmurs, still stroking Eleanor’s soft locks. “Thanks.”

“I… You’re welcome,” she whispers, trying to look anywhere but Velvet’s face. “I just said what we were all thinking, I’m certain.” _Though, to be honest, I may have also been daydreaming of a kiss like that for a long time. _The thought causes more blood to rush to the exorcist’s already-too-warm cheeks.

Their fingers are still locked, and Eleanor swears that Velvet squeezed her hand, even if she barely registers the sensation. “Yeah. Sure.”

Eleanor huffs at Velvet’s nonchalant response, then, after composing herself, stares up at the woman again. “What _possessed _you to do that?”

“A daemon, maybe.” She flashes a faint smile as she leans back, scratching the back of her head sheepishly with her right hand.

“Gah! Velvet!”

“...And what possessed _you_ to do that?”

“Wh- don’t go deflecting the question onto me!”

“Huh.” An eyebrow cocks in what strikes Eleanor as curiosity or perhaps simple amusement, but her face betrays nothing more. “You said dinner was ready, right?”

Eleanor blushes, having completely forgotten the original reason for visiting Velvet. “Yes, I did, but…”

This time, Eleanor definitely feels Velvet’s hard squeeze on her hand before she lets go. The therion tightens the bandages on that arm, then bends over, readjusting her boots. “Good. I’m starving.”

“Huh?! Are we not going to _talk _about this?!”

“No.” Velvet abruptly stands and starts for the door, only to stop at the threshold. She glances back at Eleanor, that loving, gentle look on her face again, but this time, those eyes are focused right on her and only her. “I hadn’t done that before.”

She departs without another word.

“Excuse me?” The exorcist sits silently for a few moments before regaining control of her clumsy, confused body. Eleanor bolts after her, cheeks still burning with the full force of a dragon’s flame. “What?!”

That can’t be right. Certainly, she’s had experience, right? There’s no way Velvet would’ve known how to do that so _well_ without practice, _right_?!

Her fingers trace over the lips that touched Velvet’s, and she can still imagine how sweet she tasted. Eleanor’s heart races, a smile straining her cheeks. _What comes next time? Is there even a next time? There better be a next time! Gah!_

“Get back here, Velvet!”

That was her first kiss too.

**Author's Note:**

> Of course my first Berseria fanfic is about that line. Well, it was either going to be about that or Miss Hume’s good hands.
> 
> And, uh, yeah, I don’t know why this piece flowed into a kiss. I usually don’t do that, hAHA. I wrote a lot of slow burns and angst back in and before _checks fanfic dates_ 2014\. I guess I’ve changed a little bit. Except I’m still shipping trash. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please write more Veleanor :D


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